


Trivial Embargoes

by fallenrose24



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 14:49:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13572840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallenrose24/pseuds/fallenrose24
Summary: Brighid is distraught when she learns Uraya has issued a trade embargo against Mor Ardain. (early stages of Mὸraghid)





	Trivial Embargoes

**Author's Note:**

> POUCH ITEM SPAMMING! It's canon. This is set before the game... maybe a couple years after Mὸrag resonated with Brighid. Pre-Mὸraghid.

Mὸrag tried to listen as the store keeper droned on and on about the various products on display. It was completely unfathomable that the young girl knew so much about every little bottle of similar looking white goo. The Inquisitor could hardly tell them apart! It only took a minute or two before the words spilling from the seller’s lips became a fuzz of white noise… and that left Mὸrag just as lost as she was when she first arrived.

Without thought, she grasped a small purple vial in her gloved hand. If she couldn’t distinguish the best item from what was inside, perhaps color and presentation would be a good way of deciding…

“My, that’s quite a boon you’re holding.”

The purr of a voice behind her startled the Ardainian. She quickly secured the fragile trinket before it could slip from her fingers and spun to face the culprit.

“B-Brighid! You know better than to sneak up on me like that.”

The Blade laughed lightly. “I’m sorry, Lady Mὸrag. You make it difficult to resist. I was simply coming here to make my usual purchases… I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

Heat washed over Mὸrag’s face. “I-I see… yes, well I just came to grab this and I’ll just be on my way.”

Mὸrag pulled a considerable amount of money from her pocket and practically threw it at the shopkeeper before fleeing. The eyes of the young woman behind the counter grew wider and wider as she counted the amount of gold she had been given for just a single item.

“Don’t worry about the change, Adaria.” The young woman looked up to meet the Blade’s hidden gaze. “She rarely shops for herself, but when she does, Lady Mὸrag always leaves quite the tip.”

“A-are you sure?”

“Indeed.” Brighid’s heart swelled at the young woman’s grateful smile. If only Mὸrag ever actually stuck around to see the impact she had on the merchants of Alba Cavanich.

“You must pass along my gratitude to the Special Inquisitor, then! Now, what can I do for you, Lady Brighid?”

“Just my usual purchase, please.”

Adaria balked at the request and stared down at the gold in her hands. “I-I’m terribly sorry, Lady Brighid. I just sold the last vial.”

“When are you expecting a new shipment?”

The merchant shook her head solemnly. “I’m afraid the new sanctions levied against us by Uraya have made importing cosmetics nearly impossible. I won’t be able to carry a stock of any Urayan imports until those are finally lifted.”

Brighid scowled and the temporary wrinkles she could feel on her forehead only made her more frustrated with Ardainian-Urayan politics.

\---

Mὸrag was looking over the new recruit training protocol Grand Marshall Robalt had left on her desk when the door to her office was flung open unceremoniously. For the second time of the day, her heart jumped into her throat. The culprit was the same fiery Blade from before.

“For the love of the Architect, Brighid, would you mind trying not to kill me at such a young age?”

“You need to lift those sanctions!”

Wait… what?

The Inquisitor put down the packet of papers she had been holding and took in her Blade’s appearance with curious confusion.

“I’m sorry… sanctions? To which are you referring?”

Brighid folded her glowing arms and frowned at her Driver. “The unjust trade embargo that is making Alba Cavanich inhospitable!”

Mὸrag couldn’t help but laugh, though her soft chuckles only deepened the glare on her Blade’s face. “That’s a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely not!”

“Well, at any rate, they are not my sanctions to lift. _Uraya_ has levied them against _us_. I’m afraid His Majesty is the only one in a position to reason with Queen Raqura.”

The fire Blade huffed in annoyance and quickly turned on her heel. She made her way briskly to the door, having the sudden urge to raise Hellfire through the training grounds.

“Brighid.” She stopped with a hand grasping the doorframe. “May I ask what specifically has you in such a frazzled state?”

 “Some horrible Ardainian bought the last of Adaria’s stock of Titan-oil hand cream.”

Mὸrag’s eyes widened. “I see… and she won’t be able to get a new shipment with the trade embargo in place. May I ask what this hand cream looks like?”

Brighid glanced over her shoulder. “Why? Are you planning to track down the fiend for me?”

“Humor me.”

“It’s a smooth, slightly off-white cream in a small purple vial. She uses that color glass for a number items, but she distinguishes this one from the others with an etching of Uraya’s national symbol on the bottom.”

The Ardainian’s mouth ran dry.

“Will that be all, Lady Mὸrag?”

“Y-yes, you may go… just, try not to permanently damage anything in your wake, please.”

Brighid stormed off in a huff.

Mὸrag opened the top drawer of her desk and pulled out the small vial she had purchased. Turning the bottle over, she swallowed audibly at the sight of Uraya’s national symbol blazoned across the glass.

\---

After the sun had long set, Brighid finally returned to the residential halls of the Palace. She quickly made her way to her Driver’s room and knocked on the door. Releasing all of that pent up energy had certainly helped her mood, at the unfortunate expense of the training ground, but she knew she wouldn’t fully be at ease until she saw Mὸrag.

A muffled “come in” sounded and she opened the door.

Mὸrag was sitting on her bed, meticulously polishing one of her whip-swords.

“Welcome back, Brighid.” Amber eyes lifted briefly to meet her hidden gaze. “Feel any better?”

The Blade smiled and rolled her shoulders. “I do and there is still a relatively decent amount of dirt still usable for the soldiers tomorrow.”

“I appreciate your thoughtfulness.” Mὸrag chuckled softly. “There’s something for you on my desk.”

“Oh?” Brighid made her way to the far end of the room.

Sitting on top for of the intricately melded metal surface was a small purple vial. The Blade’s heart sped at the sight. Lifting the delicate bottle, she smiled at the Urayan logo. How had Mὸrag…

The image of her Driver quickly pocketing a similar container that morning flooded her mind.

She glanced over her shoulder at the Ardainian who was purposefully keeping her gaze locked on the blade she was still unnecessarily shining. With a contented sigh, she made quick work of the distance between them and stilled Mὸrag’s hand. When her Driver turned her head to meet her gaze, she leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“Thank you.”

Mὸrag smiled and a furious blush emerged over her cheeks. “But of course.”

“I suppose I’ll just have to make this last as long as I can.”

“I wouldn’t overly concern yourself, Brighid.”

\---

The sanctions stretched on for months. Alba Cavanich was starved of all Urayan imports, though it only seemed to affect the personal economy of one Blade. Mor Ardain continued to thrive by increasing trade with Argentum and Indol, which reduced any urgency to negotiate with the stubborn rival nation.

Despite the reduced stock at her favorite store, Brighid’s supply of Titan-oil hand cream never seemed to run out. When the vial Mὸrag had purchased started to run low, she found a new bottle sitting on the Inquisitor’s desk again. This happened week after week. Mὸrag never said anything and just simply smiled at Brighid when she clutched the fragile bottle in her hands. Brighid wasn’t entirely sure how she was smuggling the item out of Uraya… merchants were reluctant to sell to Mor Ardain’s Special Inquisitor even when there wasn’t a trade embargo. It couldn’t have been easy or cheap, of those she was certain. The clear effort her Driver was making to keep her happy made her heart swell each time the iconic purple glass caught her attention.

With each vial delivered, Mὸrag received a kiss to the forehead in thanks. Gradually, the kisses journeyed lower and lower along her face. On the day the sanctions were finally lifted, the pair ventured into the Alba Cavanich market and Mὸrag purchased the entire stock of Titan-oil hand cream for her Blade.

That finally earned her a kiss on the lips.

**Author's Note:**

> FLUFF BALL! Feel free to barf.


End file.
